


Catharsis

by chainsawdog



Series: Smut Collection [1]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 01:39:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6065845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chainsawdog/pseuds/chainsawdog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set between the Clone Wars episodes "Brothers" and "Revenge,"<br/>Obi-Wan Kenobi realises he is not over the death of Qui-Gon Jinn, Anakin Skywalker comforts his former Master in the most tactile of ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catharsis

_From the dead, an old enemy has awakened seeking vengeance._  
_An old enemy?_  
_Killed your Master many moons ago, he did._  
_How can this be? I killed him myself._  
_It is so, I fear._  
_Darth Maul, alive?_

He didn’t plan on telling Anakin.  


There was much he didn’t tell Anakin. Just as he knew there was much Anakin didn’t tell him. It was some sort of unspoken agreement between the two of them. They shared so much already, there had to be some things they didn’t. And this… Darth Maul. The monster who had killed Qui-Gon Jinn, his Qui-Gon… it brought too many emotions to the surface that he didn’t want Anakin to see. Over ten standard years had passed since the battle on Naboo, and he told himself he had accepted his Master’s death, that he had moved on, but the grief was like a thorn caught in his gut, pulling at him whenever he was foolish enough to think he was free of it. Jedi let go of attachments, that was what they did, that was what he was supposed to do. But he had loved Qui-Gon, and his death had driven Obi-Wan to the brink of darkness. In his anger, he had killed a Sith Lord. They had made him a Knight for that.  


What if it hadn’t been a Sith, who Obi-Wan had slain in revenge?  


And now Master Yoda claimed Maul had returned from the dead. The old anger had reignited, and Obi-Wan had retreated to his quarters to meditate.  


The quarters he shared with Anakin.  


He was so caught up in his ruminations that he didn’t sense Anakin enter the room. He jumped as Anakin’s hand touched his shoulder, opened his eyes to look at his friend’s concerned face.  
“Master?”  


Obi-Wan had told Anakin that he didn’t need to call him ‘master’ anymore, that he was no longer Obi-Wan’s Padawan, but sometimes Anakin reverted to the habit. Had Obi-Wan allowed himself to think about it, he might have made a connection with Anakin’s past as a slave.  


“Anakin – you caught me off guard,” he smiled at this, standing up with Anakin’s hand still on his shoulder.  


“You’ve been crying,” Anakin’s other hand came up to wipe a tear from Obi-Wan’s cheek. “What’s wrong?”  


Obi-Wan caught the hand that had brushed his cheek, and held it a moment before letting go. “It’s nothing, Anakin. Don’t worry.”  


The hand on his shoulder tightened, and Anakin dipped his head to look Obi-Wan in the eyes. “It’s not nothing, Obi-Wan. Don’t lie to me. What’s wrong? Maybe I can help.” There had been a flash of anger in Anakin’s voice, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. Anakin had a problem with lying, something Obi-Wan knew well.  


Obi-Wan sighed. Hanging his head, so he didn’t have to look into Anakin’s eyes, he said, “I was thinking of Qui-Gon.”  


Impulsive as ever, Anakin pulled Obi-Wan into a hug. He was solid, his arms holding Obi-Wan tightly, and Obi-Wan could sense the pain in Anakin’s Force presence. Fear, anger, grief – all things that Obi-Wan could sense from Anakin all too often. But this pain was for him. For Obi-Wan. Anakin hadn’t known Qui-Gon, not in the way Obi-Wan had, and Anakin was grieving for him. Obi-Wan rested his forehead on Anakin’s shoulder, and wrapped his arms around him. His breath hitched as he tried to speak, and he started to cry, sobbing into Anakin’s tunic. Anakin’s arms tightened around him, and Obi-Wan clutched at Anakin, feeling the awful grief for his Master anew. It was almost physically painful, as though he had lost a part of himself, sharp and raw and unhealed after so long.  


His breath came back to him, and he pulled away from Anakin slightly, sniffing and wiping his tears on his sleeve. He placed a hand on Anakin’s chest and said, “I’m sorry, Anakin.”  


Anakin looked down into his eyes in confusion. They were so close, their faces almost touching. “What for?”  


“I’ve got snot on your tunic.”  


Anakin laughed. “If that’s our biggest problem, then I’m okay with it,” he said. He pulled Obi-Wan closer again, and said, “Did you want to tell me what got you into this state?”  


“I can’t if you’re going to hold me this close,” Obi-Wan deliberately muffled his voice in Anakin’s tunic, and Anakin laughed again. Strange, how that noise could make things seem a little better, even if nothing had changed. Anakin released him, but grabbed hold of his left hand, and Obi-Wan looked at him carefully.  


“Don’t worry,” Anakin said quietly. “You can trust me, Obi-Wan.”  


“Can we sit?”  


Anakin let go of his hand to sit down, and Obi-Wan sat next to him. He took a deep breath in, and sighed again. “I haven’t really thought about this in years,” he said quietly. “On Naboo – you were only a boy, then, and I was still a Padawan, and Qui-Gon –” he felt a sob rise in his throat, and closed his eyes. He could feel Anakin watching him, but it was easier to speak with his eyes shut. “You remember Darth Maul?”  


He assumed Anakin must have nodded, for there was a brief silence before Anakin said, “The red-and-black man? In the cloak. You and Qui-Gon fought him in the hangar while Padmé broke back into her palace.” He chuckled. “I blew up a space station that day.”  


Obi-Wan found himself smiling. He glanced at Anakin, and saw that the other man had edged closer. Anakin was showing more restraint than usual, hesitant to touch him. Obi-Wan hesitated, and then held out his hand, inviting Anakin to curl up next to him.  


“We fought him for a long time,” Obi-Wan continued. He hadn’t expected to take comfort from Anakin’s presence, but he did. “And… well, he managed to knock me back quite a ways – by the time I caught up to Maul and Qui-Gon… there were these barriers, timed barriers,” he frowned. Anakin took Obi-Wan’s hand with his living hand, and squeezed it gently. His arm draped around Obi-Wan’s shoulders, and Obi-Wan leaned into Anakin’s embrace. “Ah…” he closed his eyes again. “I mostly remember red. The colour – of the barriers, and of Maul’s face and… well…”  


Anakin waited. Obi-Wan wept again until he had no more tears to spare, and Anakin held him all the while.  


“I was so angry, Anakin,” he whispered. “I felt like something had broken inside of me. I wanted to destroy Maul. I wanted him to suffer for what he had done to Qui-Gon.”  


“You loved him,” Anakin’s voice was low, and closer to Obi-Wan’s ear than he had realised.  


“Yes,” said Obi-Wan. “I loved him.”  


“Do you love me?”  


The question took him by surprise, and Obi-Wan turned his head to look at Anakin. Their noses almost touched, both Obi-Wan and Anakin moved their heads back a little. Neither pulled away from the embrace. Obi-Wan looked at Anakin’s eyes, and it took Anakin a moment to do the same. If Obi-Wan had entertained the notion, he would have thought Anakin had been staring at his lips.  


“I – Anakin, is this really the time for that?” Obi-Wan asked.  


Anakin shrugged, a little careless tilt of his head as he looked away from Obi-Wan. “You killed Maul,” he said. “Did it make you feel any better?”  


“Of course not, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, watching Anakin closely. There was something here, something Anakin wasn’t telling him. “Qui-Gon… was still dead. Nothing I did after Maul had killed him could change that.”  


“What if you could have changed it?” Anakin asked. He had sat back, looking at Obi-Wan with that odd intensity he sometimes got in his eyes. “What if you could have stopped him from dying?”  


Obi-Wan frowned. “Anakin… that’s unnatural. What you’re suggesting. If an injury can’t be healed, then that’s how it is. Death is part of the natural order of things.”  


Obi-Wan felt the surge of anger in Anakin, seconds before the other Jedi stood, flinging his hands by his side and beginning to pace. “It’s not fair!” he wasn’t quite shouting, not yet. “It’s not fair that Qui-Gon died and it’s not fair that you were supposed to just let go of him and it’s not fair that they forced you to train me when you didn’t even want a Padawan –”  


“Is that what you think?” Obi-Wan cut into Anakin’s rant. “That the Jedi Council forced me to train you?”  


Anakin stopped pacing and looked at him, a cautious, almost startled confusion in his eyes.  


“Didn’t they? Because of Master Qui-Gon?”  


Obi-Wan shook his head. “I… Anakin, I made the Council accept you as my Padawan. It was Qui-Gon’s dying wish that I train you.”  


It was astonishing how quickly Anakin could go from angry to something akin to calm. He hopped onto the couch, tucking his legs under him to face Obi-Wan, and put his hands on his knees. “You never told me this,” he said, and there was a hint of the child he had once been in those words.  


“I suppose I didn’t,” Obi-Wan replied. He could still feel his grief, keenly, but as usual Anakin was proving to be more forceful than anything else in the room. In a way, training Anakin had helped him deal with his grief for Qui-Gon. If he had been left alone with it… “I’m sorry, Anakin. There seems to be a great deal I haven’t told you.”  


Anakin bit his lip, and sat back on his haunches. Did he ever stop moving?  


“There’s a lot I haven’t told you, Master,” he said.  


“You can tell me anything, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. Part of him hoped that this would allow Anakin to lower the barriers that had been growing between them.  


Obi-Wan wasn’t prepared for the things Anakin had been keeping secret. How Shmi had died in the camp of Tusken Raiders, and how Anakin’s rage had been so great that he had killed every man, woman and child he could find. How Anakin and Padmé had wed, secretly, on Naboo, after the trouble on Geonosis. How sometimes Anakin wanted to leave the Order, and how he felt there was no way he could. How Anakin feared he wasn’t good enough to be a mentor to Ahsoka. How tempting it was to give in to his anger and let it consume him. How he had blamed Obi-Wan for so many things that, logically, he knew he couldn’t blame Obi-Wan for.  


By the time Anakin had finished speaking, he was sobbing, and Obi-Wan was holding him, Anakin clutching Obi-Wan’s tunic. Obi-Wan didn’t speak, as he waited for Anakin to catch his breath. Anakin looked up at him, eyes red and nose running, and said, “Do you hate me?”  


“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan cupped Anakin’s cheek in his hand. “Of course I don’t hate you.”  


“But I’ve done such terrible things. And I’ve made this about me, and –”  


Obi-Wan pulled Anakin closer, and kissed him gently on the forehead.  


Anakin lifted his head, and caught Obi-Wan’s mouth with his own. The brush of Anakin’s lips against his sent shivers down his spine, and he jerked his head back. Anakin’s eyes widened, and he said, “I – I’m sorry, I didn’t mean –”  


“You did, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said softly. “You may act impulsively, but I have rarely seen you do something, or say something, you didn’t mean.” He put his arms around Anakin, and Anakin rested his head against Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Obi-Wan astutely ignored the sensation of Anakin’s nose tickling his neck, Anakin’s breath stirring on his skin. “I’m glad you told me,” he said. “I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me.” He stroked Anakin’s hair, thinking. “I wish I had been there, on Tatooine… I wish we had returned earlier.”  


Anakin buried his face in Obi-Wan’s tunic, sobbing.  


“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan held him close, as Anakin wept. “There is so much I wish we could go back and do differently.”  


As Anakin had with Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan held Anakin until his tears had run dry. Then he allowed Anakin to sit up a little straighter, to press himself against Obi-Wan and hold his hand. He rested his head against Anakin’s, Anakin’s forehead pressed against Obi-Wan’s cheek.  


“Do you love me, Obi-Wan?” there was a hint of desperation in Anakin’s voice, his breath hot against Obi-Wan’s neck, his tears wet against Obi-Wan’s face.  


Obi-Wan turned his head carefully, and pressed his lips against Anakin’s. He could sense Anakin’s disbelief – and joy – in the Force, and rested his forehead against Anakin’s, kissing him softly, like ripples in a pond, each kiss smaller than the last. Anakin’s lips were rough, and Obi-Wan could sense a fierceness barely restrained behind those kisses.  


“Yes,” he said. “I do love you, Anakin.”  


Anakin breathed out and put his hands on Obi-Wan’s cheeks, pulling him back into a kiss that left both of them breathless and panting. Anakin had pushed Obi-Wan onto his back, straddling him, pinning him down with his hips and hands, bending down to kiss Obi-Wan on the lips, snaking his tongue between them. Anakin ran his lips down Obi-Wan’s neck, kissing and licking, and without warning bit Obi-Wan on his shoulder. Obi-Wan moaned, and Anakin rocked back, staring down at him with a wild grin. He shifted his hips, and Obi-Wan shuddered. Anakin pressed himself against Obi-Wan, leaning down to tug at Obi-Wan’s earlobe with his teeth, flicking his tongue against Obi-Wan’s skin. Obi-Wan felt himself grow hot – amongst other things.  


He pushed at Anakin’s chest, forcing Anakin to sit up, and propped himself up on his elbows. “Anakin, are you sure?”  


Anakin licked his lips. Obi-Wan could feel how sure Anakin’s body was, but after finding out about Padmé – and despite how much Obi-Wan wanted this, as well – Obi-Wan had to ask.  


“I am sure,” Anakin said. He put his hands on either side of Obi-Wan and leaned forward again, shifting his weight gently against Obi-Wan’s pelvis. Obi-Wan stopped Anakin again before he could kiss him, and said, “But what about Padmé?”  


Anakin’s grin widened, and he pressed a kiss against Obi-Wan’s nose. “She knows how I feel about you,” he said. His hand found its way to Obi-Wan’s belt and pulled at it. It came loose, and Anakin slipped his hand into Obi-Wan’s pants. Obi-Wan jumped the cold of Anakin’s hands against his skin, and he didn’t protest as Anakin’s hand found his cock. “She’s got a thing with Sabé, we’ve discussed this before.” His free hand pulled Obi-Wan’s pants down, and, looking up at Obi-Wan’s eyes with his big, blue eyes. “Are you sure?” he asked, moving backwards. He trailed his tongue across Obi-Wan’s hip, and bit down gently. He trailed his nose up Obi-Wan’s stomach, breathing heavily, and planted a kiss above his belly button. He looked up at Obi-Wan for his answer.  


Obi-Wan nodded.  


Anakin’s lips brushed against the head of his cock and Obi-Wan shuddered, craning his neck to watch Anakin. Anakin licked the shaft of his cock, sending shivers down Obi-Wan’s spine, Anakin took Obi-Wan’s cock into his mouth, deep into his throat. Obi-Wan’s hips twitched in pleasure and Anakin made a choking sound. Instead of pulling back, Anakin began to bob his head, stroking Obi-Wan’s cock with his mouth, tongue and hand. Obi-Wan clutched at the couch with one hand, and tangled his fingers in Anakin’s hair with the other, pressing Anakin closer to him.  


He came, he felt, far too quickly. Anakin swallowed most of it, licking it off his lips, and letting the rest drip down onto his tunic. He kissed Obi-Wan’s hips, one hand still on Obi-Wan’s cock, and said, “Again?”  


Obi-Wan nodded, and they stood. With Anakin’s help, he took off the rest of his clothes, and helped Anakin undress. Anakin’s naked body was something Obi-Wan had seen before, but Obi-Wan’s breath still caught in his throat before he kissed Anakin fiercely, tasting himself in Anakin’s mouth. He knocked Anakin off his feet and onto the couch again, his bare skin rubbing against Anakin’s in so many places, so electric. He could feel Anakin’s cock against his leg and he took it in his hand, rubbing the tip gently with his thumb. Anakin groaned, and Obi-Wan moved away from their kiss to lick, kiss and bite his way down Anakin’s chest. Then he paused. Anakin, panting heavily, put a hand on the back of Obi-Wan’s head. They looked into one another’s eyes, and Obi-Wan said, “Do we have any… um…”  


“Oh!” said Anakin, his eyes widening. How beautiful he looked, his hair messy, his face lit up with lust. “In the ‘fresher – uh, I can –”  


“No, Anakin, you wait here,” Obi-Wan stood up, running his eyes hungrily over Anakin’s naked body. “I’ll be back in a moment, don’t finish yourself off while I’m away.”  


Anakin laughed. Obi-Wan was quick in the ‘fresher, finding what he needed and hurrying back to the sitting room. He stopped as he looked at Anakin, who was now lying in what he obviously thought was an alluring way on the couch. He was on his side, his head propped up by his right arm, his left hand draped over his hip. Obi-Wan had to admit, Anakin’s body was tempting no matter how it was positioned, even if he looked the fool.  


“I missed you,” he said.  


Obi-Wan’s heart stuttered. “I’m back now,” he said. “How do you want to do this?”  
Anakin stood up. “I want…” he said, walking with confidence towards Obi-Wan. “I want you inside me.”  


“Are you sure?” Obi-Wan asked. “You could have me, if you asked.”  


“I know what I want, Obi-Wan,” Anakin’s hand closed around Obi-Wan’s hand, taking the lube from him. He wet his fingers with it, watching Obi-Wan, and ran them down the length of Obi-Wan’s penis.  


Obi-Wan smiled, taking the lube back from Anakin, and said, “Then we’ll start slowly.”  


Anakin allowed Obi-Wan to bend him over the couch. Obi-Wan lubed his fingers up and ran one finger down Anakin’s crack, circling his asshole before slowly sliding one finger inside him. Anakin moaned into the couch cushions, shuddering as Obi-Wan pulled his finger out.  


“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said.  


Anakin looked up from the pillows with an innocent look on his face. “Yes?”  


“Did you… expect this to happen tonight?”  


“No,” Anakin said slowly. “Of course not.” Obi-Wan didn’t believe him.  


“Shouldn’t you wash… yourself?”  


“I may already have?”  


“You’ve already washed your ass.”  


“Maybe,” Anakin still looked the picture of innocence.  


“Because?”  


“Maybe Padmé wanted to try something new.”  


Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.  


“Or maybe you’ve done this before.”  


Anakin shrugged. “Padmé’s adventurous.”  


Obi-Wan laughed aloud, and Anakin’s face lit up.  


“We can do this facing one another, you know,” he said, turning around so he was lying on his back. Obi-Wan ducked down to kiss Anakin. He let Anakin show him how much lube to put on his cock, and put a generous amount in and around Anakin’s ass. Then, slowly, he pressed the head of his cock against Anakin’s ass, rubbing it back and forth slowly, teasing. Anakin glared up at him, making little, involuntary sounds of pleasure, so Obi-Wan pulled away and gently pushed two fingers inside him. Anakin groaned and threw his head back, saying, “Come on, Obi-Wan!”  


“Patience is a virtue, Anakin,” Obi-Wan chided, laughing. Anakin grumbled and sat up, pushing Obi-Wan backwards and taking hold of his cock. He eased it into him, rocking his hips and moaning. Obi-Wan could barely breathe, and the sounds that Anakin was making weren’t helping.  


Anakin rode Obi-Wan slowly at first, gently moving his hips back and forth, a hand splayed on Obi-Wan’s chest, keeping him pinned. Obi-Wan whimpered in pleasure, and Anakin shouted his name, which only made Obi-Wan more aroused. He could feel their Force signatures threading together, more intimately than they had ever before, and it astounded him that he had not seen this happening. It had been a matter of ‘when,’ not ‘if.’ Anakin’s rhythm picked up, and he had his hand on his own cock, stroking it in time to his rocking. Obi-Wan could feel his pleasure building, every nerve in his body on fire in a way he could have never imagined. In fact, he wasn’t sure if he was feeling his own pleasure or Anakin’s.  


Anakin bent forward, still moving his hips back and forth, Obi-Wan deep inside of him. Anakin was shuddering with pleasure, and wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan’s back, pulling him close. Anakin kissed Obi-Wan, a breathy, sweaty kiss that Obi-Wan couldn’t help but moan into. When Anakin pulled away, Obi-Wan followed him, and pulled Anakin back into another kiss. Obi-Wan held Anakin as closely as Anakin held him, matching the rocking of his hips with Anakin’s, as he sat up, still entwined with Anakin. Anakin moaned aloud as he took Obi-Wan’s face in his hands, pressing Obi-Wan’s forehead to his own, their bodies so close it was hard to know where Obi-Wan ended and Anakin began. Anakin pressed into Obi-Wan’s lap, Obi-Wan bucking his hips, his cock thrusting deep into Anakin’s tight ass. Anakin wrapped his legs around Obi-Wan, and moved his hips gently in a circular motion as Obi-Wan increased the speed of his movements.  


They came at the same time, the Force swirling around them exploding like fireworks, Obi-Wan crying out, biting down on Anakin’s shoulder, Anakin making a small noise of pleasure and throwing his head back, his eyelids fluttering.  


Anakin slumped forward to rest his forehead on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, Obi-Wan still inside him. They sat like that for a moment, and then Anakin dismounted, to lie next to Obi-Wan. They were hot, sweaty, and sticky, but they lay in one another’s arms, neither one of them wanting to break the spell of the moment.  


“Whatever happens in the future, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, tracing a finger across Obi-Wan’s chest. “We’ll face it together.”  


“Darth Maul is still alive,” said Obi-Wan.  


Anakin sat up. “You waited until now to tell me?”  


Obi-Wan smiled. “You didn’t give me many opportunities to speak, did you?”  


Anakin lay his head on Obi-Wan’s chest. “I guess I didn’t,” he said. “I’m sorry. We’ll stop him, Obi-Wan. Together.”  


Obi-Wan took Anakin’s hand in his. “Yes,” he said. “Together.”  


Anakin looked up at him with a smile. “So,” he said, “You wanna go again?”


End file.
